Wanton Angel (Blackthorne Trilogy)

by Henke, Shirl

  Derrick stood towering over her angrily. As she scooted up against the pillows, she said, “We've played this out before, Derrick. I do not choose to sleep with you tonight.” Or ever again!

  “Since you agreed to become my wife, your wishes as to sleeping arrangements no longer signify,” he said insolently.

  “Seek comfort from your whores. You reek of alcohol and their cheap perfume,” she spat.

  “Your concern about my fidelity is touching, madam,” he said with a mock bow. Anger churned like acid deep in his gut. He had passed up numerous opportunities to bed other women since he'd met her and here she was, bidding him go to them!

  Percy stood up on the foot of the bed,legs braced, still growling. Derrick stared at the dog, feeling furious at what he perceived as the animal's perfidious switch in loyalty-even though Percy had never been loyal to begin with. His eyes moved back to hers as he reluctantly admitted, “I want no other woman but my wife. 'Tis a fine irony, is it not—since she wants quit of me and all the odious duties with which I've now been saddled?”

  This time when he took a step closer to her the dog quieted, sitting down once more. Traitor, Beth accused Percy as she watched Derrick's knee rest on the edge of the bed. He was too close. She could not think with him towering over her, practically naked. His scent filled her nostrils, and in spite of the faint aromas of liquor and perfume, she felt a small involuntary ripple of the old familiar longing stir her blood.

  Still, she could not give up without a fight, for to go docilely with him was to open herself to more pain than she could imagine. “The first odious duty you were forced to perform was marrying me! You've said as much yourself. No need to deny it now.” She was breathless, and her voice caught as she babbled on. “Go to London and find yourself a suitable wife. Leave me behind. 'Tis what we both want.”

  Slowly, implacably, he reached down, ignoring her protests even though every word wounded him to the very soul. “No,” was all he said as he pulled her into his embrace and lifted her from the bed while Percy sat observing the bizarre mating rituals of humans with keen interest.

  Derrick carried her from the room and down the hall as she lay stiffly in his arms. His gait was none too steady. What would she do if he were thoroughly foxed? She'd heard stories from Vittoria about her second husband. “How much have you had to drink?” she asked, alarm beginning to thread her voice.

  “Not nearly enough,” he replied grimly. He could feel the rigid resistance in the way she held herself, yet he could also feel the frantic pounding of her heart. Her body wanted him even if her mind rejected him. And he damn well meant to have her, this night of all nights. He needed the comfort of a woman's soothing touch to ease the misery that seemed to be closing in on him from all sides.

  I am the earl. The bloody earl! The responsibilities seemed crushing. He'd been ostracized by the ton, saddled with the additional burden of caring for his sister-in-law and her infant daughter, and the near bankruptcy of the family. The solicitor's litany of woes had been lengthy, overwhelming. Then his wife calmly announced to him that she preferred to remain in Naples and he should secure a bloody divorce! He dropped her on the bed unceremoniously, then began unbuttoning his fly.

  Beth watched, unable to look away as the lone candle gilded his magnificent body with a soft glow. A glow that certainly did not extend to his cold blue eyes as he sat on the bed beside her. “Derrick, I think we should...” Her words died on her lips as he dropped like a stone onto his back, then rolled on his side, flinging one arm possessively across her breasts. And proceeded to pass out cold, snoring softly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Beth tried to slip soundlessly from the bed. Bright sunlight spilled through the windows like warm butterscotch, but the comparison only served to make her stomach pitch more furiously. She had to make it to the dressing room. If she could close the door before the morning sickness overtook her...no use. She had only to stand up and try to take a step before realizing that she'd never make it. Kneeling quickly by the side of the bed, she seized the chamber pot from beneath the frame and emptied the contents of her stomach into it.

  Derrick awakened gradually, sensing that Beth was no longer by his side. Then the sounds of her distress brought him bolt upright in bed, a dreadful mistake. He would have had good use for the chamber pot himself had it not been preempted by his wife.

  Beth had always been abstemious, seldom consuming more than a glass or two of wine with meals. Surely she did not suffer from his malady, he thought as he tried to clear his woozy head enough to think straight. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath, swung his legs over his side of the bed and stood up. “Here, puss, let me help you,” he murmured, rounding the bed to where she sat hunched over the pot, clutching the rim with whitened knuckles.

  “Go away, Derrick, please,” she whispered raggedly.

  “I don't think so,” he said,holding her long hair back when another spasm struck her. Finally she collapsed against him, allowing him to gently wipe her mouth, then assist her to sit up on the edge of the bed. “I have good reason for needing the solace of the chamber pot, but from what little I can recall of last night,you should not.” He touched her forehead and looked into her eyes, trying to ascertain whether she was falling victim to some dangerous summer malady. “Do you have a fever—dysentery? I've heard there's an outbreak of influenza on the waterfront,” he murmured with anxiety.

  Beth shook her head. There was no use putting this off. ”I don't have influenza, Derrick. I'm with child.” She forced herself to look at him, trying to gauge his expression.

  Relief that she was not ill combined in Derrick with alarm. Beth had not wanted children. “Are you sorry, puss?” he asked before considering whether or not he wished to hear the answer.

  That was not exactly the response she'd expected. What did I want—for him to be deliriously happy that I'll provide him with his precious heir? “A better question might be, are you sorry.”

  He sighed, trying to read behind the strained pallor of her face. “It would seem that no matter how I answer I'll be damned. If I'm not happy, you'll be angry that I don't want the child I gave you. If I am happy, you'll accuse me of only wanting an heir for Lynden.”

  “You'll require an heir, most certainly—but you need someone more worthy than I to be his mother.” She waited, daring him to deny it.

  “For God's sake, Beth!” He stood up and turned to pace, combing his fingers through his hair, then wincing when his head throbbed even harder. “The whole world's crashed around me—but we've made this baby together. We must share the responsibility to care for it.”

  Her hands fisted, clenching the coverlet as the pain sliced through her. “Yes, we have—at least you cannot but admit 'tis yours. 'Twould be unthinkable that some corsair's or Algerine princeling's by-blow inherit Lynden Hall.”

  “That is some consolation, madam,” he replied icily. Would she never cease reminding him about the other men in her past? “I will have a physician examine you at once. If he agrees that it is safe for you to travel, we sail for London within the week.”

  “And what if he says I may not travel? Will you leave me behind?” She did not know which she dreaded most—a yes or a no answer.

  Derrick only shook his aching head, too confused to argue further. “First, let us see what the leech says.”

  * * * *

  The physician assured Beth that the sickness she had been experiencing upon rising in the mornings would quickly pass. He mixed an herbal posset to soothe her stomach, then pronounced that there should be no impediment to her accompanying her husband on the voyage to England.

  After the physical examination, Derrick insisted on hearing what the doctor had to say about his wife's health. Beth had always possessed a strong constitution, but women died in childbed and he was worried. It was bad enough that he had impregnated her with a child she did not want; he would do nothing further to endanger her health. If the leech had said she must remain in Naples
until she was delivered, he would have waited by her side.

  He was relieved that they could travel. Another letter had just arrived from his solicitor in London, explaining that because it had taken them the better part of a year to locate him, his distant cousin, Albert Wharton Jamison, had been notified that he was next in line. The cousin had been informed that if Derrick could not been found, then Albert would inherit.

  Much as Derrick did not want to be earl, neither could he allow the title and estates to be given to a man whose only connection to the family was a great-great-grandfather on the paternal side.

  Derrick dispatched yet another reply to the solicitor, explaining the reasons for his delay in departing for home. As he composed the letter, he considered very carefully how he would introduce his new countess to the ton. It was bad enough that she was untitled and an American to boot, but if word ever got out about her reputation in Naples—or, worse yet,her Algerine captivity—she would be cruelly cut by everyone and banished from polite society.

  Even the legitimacy of their child would be called into question if anyone learned about her time in a seraglio. No matter what either of them had done, an innocent must not be made to suffer for their mistakes. It might be wise to invent some story of how they'd met in America and become affianced there. No one of consequence ever visited the new republic, although a great many did tour the Continent. Fortunately, the war had curtailed such visits until quite recently. With luck, Beth could be satisfactorily established in London society and no one would be the wiser.

  However, when he broached his idea to her at dinner that evening, Beth did not take the suggestion in quite the spirit he intended.

  “Let me get the right of this,” she said, plunking her spoon back in the consomme and shoving the soup bowl away. “You wish us to concoct a lie about meeting at my parents' home in Georgia so that no one will learn of my shame.”

  “I said nothing of shame,” he replied tightly. “I'm trying to protect not only your reputation but that of an innocent babe.” Why could she never accept anything he told her?

  “By all means, we must preserve the reputation of your precious heir! Such a great pity that his mother is a slut!” she cried, jumping up so abruptly that she knocked over her wine glass.

  When she turned and tried to leave the room, he caught her in one swift angry stride, seizing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. ”I am trying to be patient because of your condition, but you do tax me, damn it!”

  “I am with child, Derrick, not chuckle-headed,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “I never said you were chuckle-headed, but there certainly are times when you act it!”

  “Do you think I cannot see what you intend?”

  “Oh, and pray what do you think I intend?”

  “Tis quite apparent that you are beside yourself with fear that I shall disgrace you. Has it not become obvious that it would be best if you did not take me to England?” she asked stubbornly, able to see no other way out of the impasse they had reached.

  “So, we are back to that again. ‘Twill do you no good, puss. I'm not leaving you behind and there's an end to it.” He took her arm and forcefully propelled her to sit at the table once more, than rang for Arcello to clean up the mess. Taking his seat at the head of the table, he said, “Now, you will finish your consomme and eat the meat course. The leech said you need good nourishment for the babe to grow properly.”

  Not a care for me. His only concern is for his child within me. Swallowing back her tears, Beth picked up the spoon and began methodically sipping the now cold consomme as the butler scurried about, soaking up the spilled wine and refilling her glass.

  * * * *

  Derrick made arrangements for them to sail the following week. Quint, overjoyed to learn that he was about to become a grandfather, wrote immediately to his wife, explaining the joyous news. He mentioned the fact that their daughter was now a countess merely as an afterthought. But he was forced to concede that the responsibility of being a member of the peerage would also provide the benefit of preventing her from painting pictures for money or attending salons where the females discussed such insane ideas as free love and women's suffrage.

  With both Derrick and Quint leaving, Piero had to arrange for someone else to assume control of the new shipping business. Until that was settled, he and Vittoria would have to remain in Naples.

  “Do not look so grim, caro. We shall eventually be able to return to your home.” Victoria entered the room where he was poring over correspondence and ledgers. Walking up behind him, she massaged his shoulders gently and bent down to nibble his neck.

  Piero sighed, giving up on accounts for the night. Tossing the pen, which had gone dry, back onto the desk, he chuckled, replying, “The farther in the future that eventuality, the happier you will be.” He turned and pulled her down onto his lap.

  Vittoria returned his kisses voraciously, murmuring between them, “Perhaps so, but I will go wherever I must just to be with you, my beloved husband.”

  “So dutiful a wife. What man could ask more?” he breathed against her neck as he arose and swept her into his arms, carrying her from his office to the big bed in the adjoining room.

  After they had made love, Vittoria lay with her head on his chest, taking such comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat that she dared broach the subject that she had kept secret for the past several weeks. “You were very happy for Beth and Derrick when you learned that they will have a child. Have you ever wanted one of your own?”

  He stroked her back, making lazy circles with his fingertips. ”I did not want to burden a child with illegitimacy...so I did not have any. Now that I have you, it no longer matters, cara. I am content just that we have the rest of our lives together.”

  “What if you could have a legitimate child, Piero?” she asked, raising her head so she could look into his eyes.

  His hand stopped its stroking abruptly. “What do you mean, Vittoria ?”

  His face looked suddenly strained, haggard. She became afraid to say more, but there was no backing out now. “I am going to have your baby, Piero.”

  “What! You cannot—you said you'd never conceived in all these years—I assumed that you could not.” He sat up and pulled her into his arms.

  “Then you are displeased,” she whispered, fighting back tears. ”I had hoped...you were so pleased about Beth—”

  “Beth is but one and twenty! You are twice that! 'Tis not safe for you, cara,” he added, trying desperately to keep the fear from his voice. ”I cannot—I will not lose you, not now!”

  Vittoria's tears evaporated and a beatific smile spread across her face as she took a fistful of his sideburns in each hand and pulled him to her for a hard kiss, then said, ”I come from hardy stock. My grandmother had seven children—the last one when she was older than I. The reason I never had a child was not barrenness. 'Twas the same as yours, caro. If it was not to be with you, it would be with no one else. I've always taken precautions...except with you. After my family separated us, I prayed nightly that your seed had been planted in me. But it did not happen...until now. Please, Piero, say you are happy, that you want this child as much as I,” she implored.

  He framed her face with his hands and kissed her again, this time with exquisite tenderness. Smiling, he replied, “When you put it that way, how can I deny you? Of course I would love to have a daughter or son with you. We will be very careful of your health. No riding, no staying up late, definitely no sea voyages on the storm-tossed Atlantic until after you're safely delivered.” He searched her beaming face and chuckled indulgently. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned this just to keep me in Naples until next spring.”

  “Dr. Policella assured Beth and Derrick that it would do her no harm to travel. I'm sure he'll say the same for me,” she replied, so relieved that he accepted the idea of the baby that she did not even mind leaving her home.

  “We will remain here where you shall be unde
r Dr. Policella's constant care until the little one arrives,” he said sternly.

  “As you wish it, caro, ” she replied, feeling as if her happiness was complete.

  * * * *

  And it would have been—if not for Beth. Vittoria knew Beth and Derrick's relationship had been strained ever since word of his brother's death reached them. No one had dreamed that the young couple would be forced to leave Naples and assume such burdensome responsibilities. She had hoped that the coming babe would mend things, but it seemed only to create more difficulties. Her friend looked wan and pale, was losing weight and had no appetite. Vittoria concluded that the fault lay with Beth's husband.

  With only two days left before the young couple sailed, Vittoria decided to go to the shipping office on the quay and confront him face-to-face. She found him discussing a spice cargo with a Genoese captain. Seeing her, Derrick handed the man a copy of the manifest with curt instructions to make certain it was loaded before the morning tide. When he approached her, she could sense his wariness.

  “Your Italian has improved markedly since first we met,” she said as he offered her a seat in his crowded office.

  “You did not come to the quay to discuss my linguistic skills, contessa,” he replied, slinging his leg over the corner of his desk. He stared at her, waiting for her to get to the point.

  “No. I did not.”

  The ball had been returned to his court. “Has my wife been complaining of hardship now that she's been forced to become a countess?”

  “Quite the contrary. Beth complains about nothing whatsoever. She just grows more pale and tense with every passing day. Tis good neither for her nor the babe.”

  “And, now that you too are with child, you have become an expert on such matters?”

  “In spite of Piero's fears, I have never felt better, but we're speaking of Beth, not me.”